


Anchor

by ilse_writes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Mate Stiles Stilinski, Anchors, Bathrooms, Fox Stiles Stilinski, Gen, High School, M/M, Pack Feels, Protective Derek, Protective Pack, Protective Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Resisting the inevitable, Scott is a Good Friend, Self-Acceptance, Werewolf Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26445445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilse_writes/pseuds/ilse_writes
Summary: Stiles gets bitten by a rogue werewolf. Which is unexpected and unwanted, but Stiles will settle in it. Better furry than dead, right? And his first full moon is still a couple of weeks away. His dad will be his anchor, his pack is there to support him, everything will go as planned. Right?
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 113
Kudos: 992





	1. Chapter 1

Really, he is handling this whole thing like a champ. He doesn't need the whole werewolf detail there to keep an eye on him at school. Which, to be fair, they already did before he got bitten, they just turned it up another notch.

He half turns in his chair to hiss at Isaac behind him. "Will you stop sniffing me already?! I'm fine!"

"You smell weird." The boy doesn't even bother with sitting up. He is slumped over his table, nose close to Stiles' back.

Stiles huffs. "You're weird."

"No, he's right," Scott weighs in from his side. "Your smell is a little off today."

"I've been smelling different all week. I know that. It's all you guys been telling me since…" He trails off, swallowing uncomfortably.

Since an unknown Alpha suddenly showed up at the Hale house during their full moon run. It was just Stiles and Lydia on the front porch, the others were running through the woods. They came back, but not before Stiles had jumped to Lydia's defence and gotten a little mauled in the process.

Derek killed the Alpha, practically tore him to shreds on the lawn. There is a black patch in the grass now, from where they burned the remains.

The Alpha turned out to be the last one of his pack, on the run after rogue hunters murdered his wife, two daughters and other pack members. It made him feral. Crazy enough to cross state and territory lines with the full moon coming on. And then… Well, Stiles doesn't like thinking about what happened then. He doesn't remember all of it, which is just fine with him.

The bite took, even though Stiles had always said he didn't want the bite. He just got used to werewolves, he reasons. And he prefers to live. If he has to choose between dying painfully while hacking up black goo or going furry every month, he prefers the latter.

He healed. He told his dad, with Scott and Derek - his Alpha now for real, what the fuck? - at his sides. 

The sheriff was fairly calm about it; he prefers his son alive and non-possessed, although he could have done without the furry part. 

Stiles is a werewolf now. 

He wonders what he will look like. Will he get wicked sideburns like Scott? Will his eyebrows magically disappear like with Derek?

If Stiles is honest, he doesn't like the Beta form much. Yes, it is impressive and lethal, yet Stiles isn't looking to be just that. The amped up senses and the healing factor, those are nice. And it will be good to be able to defend himself, to no longer be a liability within the pack. He just wishes the package was a little… friendlier maybe. A tad more approachable.

It would be so cool if he is able to turn into a real wolf like Derek. The Alpha is beautiful in that form. And soft, Stiles found out on a particularly bold occasion. However, the wolf is a Hale thing, an Alpha thing. Poor old bitten Stiles will probably never achieve such a feat.

He should stop thinking about changing in the middle of home economics class. The next full moon is still about three weeks away and arrangements have already been made. His dad is his anchor and they will all spend the weekend at the Hale house. The sheriff put in some of his precious vacation days to help his son through his first shift.

Shift. Stiles will be shifting. He is a werewolf now.

***

Scott's phone vibrates in his pocket until he can no longer ignore it. The screen shows several texts from Lydia, all telling him to come to the boys bathroom on the second floor because something is wrong with Stiles.

He feigns a stomach ache to get out and runs to the second floor, leaving a nervous Isaac behind in class. Stiles and Lydia are supposed to be in AP Biology now, not in an empty hallway. Or, only Lydia is standing in the empty hallway, posted in front of the door to the boys bathroom.

"What happened?" Scott asks, skidding to a stop in front of her. He can't smell anything but the familiar smells of school and pack. If there is someone else here, someone dangerous, he doesn't pick up on it. "Where's Stiles?"

Lydia points her chin over her shoulder. "In there."

Scott wants to ask why she isn't in there with him. Surely Lydia Martin wouldn’t be deterred by a gender sticker on a door when she wanted to help a friend. Then his eyes fall on the bundle she holds in her arms. "Are those Stiles' clothes?"

"Yes, all but his underwear." She shifts the bundle in her arms. "And I think he still had one sock on when he ran in there."

Scott is ready to push the door open, but Lydia stops him. "He yelled at me. He didn't want me to follow him in."

"You're a girl," Scott shrugs. "It's the boys room." Lydia is not impressed. "Look, if you have his clothes, he's uh… naked in there."

"Or shifted."

Scott’s eyes go wide. "You think he shifted? It's not even the full moon yet!"

"All I know is he was stripping himself of his clothes like they were falling off on their own," Lydia says. She looks at the closed door thoughtfully. "I am not sure, but he didn't look the same before he ducked in there."

Scott squares his jaw. "I'm going in there. Whatever is happening, he needs me. He needs his best friend."

Lydia steps aside. "Be careful."

He nods. "I will."

Stiles was there for him when he went through his first changes and they barely knew what was going on back then. He was human too, Scott could've killed him easily. Whatever is happening now with Stiles, he needs to be there for his best friend. If Stiles attacks him, he will heal.

Scott knocks on the door. "Stiles? Buddy? You okay?"

There is no answer. In fact, everything is eerily silent behind the door. If Stiles is wolfed out, he is being very quiet about it.

"Stiles? I'm coming in."

Behind the door is a room with four stalls and two sinks. It is empty. On the floor is a lone sock, blue with tiny pizza slices on it.

Scott scents the air. He smells Stiles, but it is not Stiles. It is the weird scent that hung around him earlier today, though stronger now. It is most pungent by the last stall and when Scott reaches out to open the door, he is stopped by a growl.

"Stiles?"

A whiny growl is his answer.

Scott leaves his hand on the door, but doesn't push it open. "Did you shift, buddy?"

Another whine. It sounds pitiful.

Scott smiles. "It can't be that bad. You're not tearing down the walls for one. You actually sound pretty calm." Anxious maybe, but not full of rage. "That's a good thing!"

The werewolf gives the door a light push, opening it a bit. He can't see anything inside the small stall. Maybe Stiles is hiding behind the door?

"Stiles, buddy? Why don't you come out? I'm sure everything will be alright. You just shifted a little early, I guess it happens."

Stiles doesn't agree with him, if he hears the snarl right. His friend seems to have lost his words. Maybe it is hard to speak through the fangs, the Beta form takes some getting used to. Isaac still has a lisp if he doesn't pay enough attention. 

"Don't be embarrassed," Scott offers. "Those first few shifts are awkward. It happened to all of us."

The door is suddenly pushed closed again, almost hitting Scott in the face. Stiles is clearly not taking this very well, even though Scott still thinks he could be doing much, much worse. His friend doesn't sound like he needs to be chained to the radiator. Maybe it is because he has shifted without the full moon, in the middle of the day. Maybe it isn't even a full shift.

The werewolf looks around him, spotting something on the floor, right beneath the door of the stall. He pulls at it with his shoe. A boxer short. Scott can't help the laugh that escapes his lips. "Dude, are you naked in there?"

Stiles makes an offended sound. 

Affirmative.

The door to the room opens and Lydia pops her head in. Behind her looms Isaac.

"How's he doing?" she asks.

"Pretty good," Scott answers, which Stiles doesn't agree to. "He won't come out of the stall, but I think that's just because he shredded all of his clothes. He's pretty calm otherwise."

"He didn't rip his clothes," Lydia says a bit impatiently, as if Scott should know that already. "There's a small tear in the collar of his shirt, but that's it. Isn't that odd?"

Behind her, Isaac shrugs. "He took them off before he shifted, so what?"

"That takes control. This is his first shift. Jackson still occasionally rips through his shirts and he has shifted loads of times. Stiles can't have that kind of control. Not yet."

"It's Stiles," Scott smiles, as if that explains everything. It doesn't, but Scott has no clue as to what is going on, so it would have to do.

Lydia steps into the room and pushes the clothes in Scott's arms. "See if you can get him to shift back. Class is nearly out, people will come here."

"I'll send them on their way," Isaac says unbothered. "Take your time, Stiles," he adds to the quiet stall in the back.

"I've gotta get back to class," Lydia tells them. "I'll tell the teacher Stiles has a stomach bug."

With Stiles' alibi covered and Isaac watching the door, Scott turns back to the stall that hides his friend. "Alright buddy, think you can change back? It'd be easier to get you home if you aren't in Beta form."

There are some noises, like Stiles moves around nervously. It sounds a bit like nails clicking the tiles.

Scott taps his fingers on the door. "It's okay if it doesn't work right away, buddy. Remember your anchor? Think about your dad. Picture something you do together. Watching tv, eating dinner. Something normal. It'll help you change back."

Stiles might have been able to shift without the full moon, shifting back is another story. Half an hour later Stiles is still hiding out in the stall, getting more and more distressed. His heartbeat is through the roof, the pitter patter sounding lighter than Stiles' usual heartbeat. Smaller somehow.

Scott crouches down to look underneath the stall, maybe he can get an idea of how far Stiles is shifted.

What he sees is not human. Or a Beta werewolf for that matter.

He locks eyes with an animal. Black nose perched on dark paws, surrounded by brownish fur.

It is gone in a second. A blur of fur and limbs before it hides behind the toilet.

"What the…? Stiles? Is that you?" Scott tries to see more, but the animal whines in distress. Stiles clearly wants him to back off.

Scott sags backwards on his ass. He barely believes his eyes.

Isaac opens the door. "What's going on?"

"I think we gotta call Derek."

***

The hallways are empty when Derek enters the school through a back door. He doesn't spend time thinking of why he is this familiar with the less conspicuous entrances of Beacon Hills High. He needs to get to the boys bathroom on the second floor. Scott's phone call worries him. Stiles wasn't supposed to shift, not yet, not when the next full moon is still weeks away.

The bite took. Derek is sure of that. He'd smelled the change in Stiles, on top of the visual evidence of the healing wounds. He killed the Alpha responsible for the attack, for changing Stiles against his will. They were lucky his body didn’t reject the bite, everything could have ended so much differently that night. Derek should have protected his pack, this never should have happened in the first place. But now that it had, Derek would be damned if he didn't stand by Stiles for everything that was gonna happen. 

Isaac is standing in front of the bathroom, opening the door for him when he gets close. Derek runs his hand across the boy's neck, giving him a short squeeze. Isaac is taking care of Stiles in his own way.

An avalanche of pungent smells assaults Derek. A school's bathroom never smells pleasantly, but this one reeks of anxiety and distress. Stiles is very uncomfortable.

"Derek's here," Scott says when he sees the other Alpha. He makes room for Derek in front of the last stall, nudging his chin towards the door to indicate Stiles is in there. 

Derek nods in thanks, too busy catologising all the smells to give a verbal response. His wolf has a very strong reaction over Stiles and Derek has to concentrate very hard to keep himself from barging into that toilet stall and put his hands on his young packmate to… To do what exactly? His wolf seems to have some clear ideas about that, but to Derek those just feel like  _ mine  _ and  _ claim  _ and a pressing urge to be close, to be _ together _ . 

Ever since Stiles was bitten his wolf felt a stronger attraction to the boy. At first Derek interpreted it as wanting to take care for a newly turned packmate, an outlet for his Alpha responsibilities. Even as a human Stiles held an interest for his wolf, from the first time they met. Derek didn’t trust him at first and the feeling was mutual, yet Stiles showed to be a valuable and firstmost loyal addition to the pack. It is no surprise the Alpha wolf is pleased to be able to add him to the pack as a beta, no longer a strictly human member. Derek's human side mourns the fact that the choice was taken away from Stiles, even though the boy had taken fairly easy to his new situation. Derek witnessed one panic attack, not long after the… incident. Together with Scott he'd helped Stiles calm down and after that they'd called his father to the house.

This whole week, Stiles has been admiringly calm about the whole thing. "Better furry than dead," he told them repeatedly over the week.

Though now he  _ is _ furry - even though he has yet to see Stiles, Derek can smell the transformation - he isn't so relaxed about it.

"It's gonna be okay, buddy," Scott says to the closed stall.

A nervous whimper is the answer. 

"He needs some space," Derek offers when Scott pulls a pained face.

"I'm not gonna leave him by himself," the young Alpha says. "He was there for me when I first changed. I'm gonna help him like he helped me." Scott is nothing if not stubborn in his good intentions.

In the stall Stiles whines again.

"I don't think he needs to be chained to a radiator," Derek says, pulling up the side of his mouth in slight amusement.

A yip confirms his statement.

"Dude! Can you understand him?" Scott stares at him with wide eyes.

"Don't call me that. And no," Derek answers. "Not really."

Yet he finds himself fairly in tune with Stiles' emotions. The boy's face is always an open book, he is easy to read. And Derek has learned to read the tone of his voice too, shifted or human.

"Is it because of the full shift?" Scott has gone from confused to eager. "I saw paws! Can he shift to a full wolf like you?"

Derek raises one judging eyebrow at that statement. To be able to shift to a full wolf was not that common under werewolves. Only born wolves could do it, from old and strong bloodlines like the Hales. If Stiles really shifted all the way, there has to be another explanation. 

Eventually Scott lets himself be convinced to leave the room. "I'll be right outside, buddy!"

Derek watches the door close and sighs as silence falls over them. Stiles is still very anxious and not prone to come out of his hiding place. The Alpha lowers himself to the floor - with the mental reminder to throw his pants in the washer when he gets home. With his back to the wall he sits next to the stall, his hand placed palm up on the floor, edging underneath the rickety door.

He lets the silence speak for him. Stiles is the one who speaks the most anyway, now that he can't Derek feels no urge to fill the silence. He is content to just be there.

After a while Derek hears a shuffle and slowly a lupine form makes its way across the tiles towards his hand. Derek sees small dark paws, rust coloured fur, and finally a narrow snout underneath the door of the stall. The wet nose touches the side of his hand carefully.

"You're a fox." 

Stiles narrows his gaze at him angrily, as if to punish him for pointing out the obvious. Meanwhile, Derek's mind races. Stiles is fully shifted into a fox. Yet he was bitten by a wolf. 

"I'm sure there's a reason for your appearance," he hurries to say. Maybe Deaton can shine some light on it. "There could be some fox blood in your family line," he suggests. Stiles just huffs. "It could be your spark," Derek continues, "or…"

Or the Nogitsune, he doesn't dare say. He doesn't have to, if he looks at Stiles. The fox has pushed itself close to the floor, making itself as flat as possible near Derek's hand.

And there's the problem, that is what makes Stiles this anxious. The boy once confessed, a whisper on a cold and dark night when Derek found him on the porch instead of sleeping on the couches with the rest of the pack, that his biggest fear was losing himself once more to the darkness.

He looks so pitiful that Derek instinctively puts both his hands out to gather the trembling fox in his lap, away from the cold and dirty floor tiles. Stiles freezes up for a second, but then he pushes his nose in Derek's armpit and flattens himself against the Alpha’s chest, as if to try and disappear. 

Derek uses one hand to cup the fox's rear, simultaneously keeping the bushy tail from the floor. The other is wrapped around the animal's chest, supporting the front legs. Stiles is very light in this form, heavier than a normal fox, but still no match for an adult wolf. He has all the looks of a fox, with the reddish brown fur, the big tail and the large, pointy ears. The tips of his ears, snout, paws and tail are dark, almost black. Stiles will be mostly invisible against the forest's undergrowth during their next full moon run.

Because he is gonna run with them, with Derek, there is no doubt in his mind about that. Fox or wolf, Stiles is pack, is his… even in his mind it's hard to say the word. His wolf has less trouble with it, his spirit has been preening the second Stiles pressed himself against his Alpha for comfort and protection. 

Right now, Derek has to comfort him. Has to stop him from shivering, has to stop the dark maelstrom of thoughts that is no doubt Stiles' mind right now.

"It's not him," he urges, tightening his arms around the fox. "I'd smell it if he returned."

Stiles whines softly into his armpit, digging even deeper under his arm with his nose. 

"You smell different, yes," Derek admits. "You smell different than us wolves, because you are no wolf. You still smell like  _ you _ , Stiles. There's just a little  _ more _ to you now."

There's a whiff of a lighter mood. Stiles looks up at Derek with one eye, his fox face expressing a playful challenge. Derek would almost say he is laughing at him for using so many words in one time.

"Shut up," he grumbles, giving the fox a light shake. "No judging until you got your words back."

Derek just sits there, holding the fox close in his arms. He doesn't talk a lot, just some words here and there when he senses a spike in anxiety. His hands stroke the fur, slowly, methodically, until fur makes way for skin, slowly but surely. The tail disappears and Derek adjusts his grip to help keep the boy's long legs on his, away from the cold floor.

When the snout makes place for a nose and mouth, Stiles moves his head to the crook of Derek’s neck and shoulder, his breath fanning out over Derek's skin.

Eventually, all Derek has in his arms is Stiles, in all his naked glory. He stays put though, waiting for Stiles to indicate he wants to move or get up.

It takes some time before the question comes. "Why are you my anchor?"

_ Because you're my mate.  _

But that will have to wait. At least until Stiles is eighteen. At least until he finishes high school, starts college. Until he has mastered this new part of his life and is less dependant on Derek for things like this.

"I'm your Alpha," he offers instead.

The huff of breath against his throat tells him it's not enough.

"We've been through a lot," he adds. Together. "With the pack," he clarifies.

"So have the others," Stiles answers quietly. "And they don't need you as their anchor."

He is silent for a moment. "I've been through a lot with my father too. And with Scott."

Derek pushes his nose against the side of Stiles' head, scents him. The boy smells of Stiles, fox and Derek, making his wolf preen happily.

"You smell tired," he says, rubbing a hand over the back of the boy's head.

"I feel like I can sleep for days," Stiles admits, allowing the subject change.

Derek leans back a little to look at him. "You feel like getting up? You might want to put some clothes on."

Stiles rears back as far as Derek’s arms allow him, which isn't far at all. A blush starts spreading from his face to his neck and it might even go further down. Derek doesn't wait for that though; he indicates the pile of clothes Scott left on the edge of the sink and helps Stiles get up.

Although nakedness is as natural to Derek as his fur, he turns away to give Stiles some privacy to get dressed, only once supporting his elbow when the boy wobbles precariously when stepping into his jeans.

Once Stiles is dressed, he stands in front of the mirror, leaning his hands on the sink. Derek leaves him be. If he wants to see for himself that every last bit of fur is gone, that's for him.

After a few minutes Stiles pushes away from the sink. He stands a little forlornly in the middle of the room. Derek puts a grounding hand on his neck and the boy closes his eyes at the contact.

"Do you want to go home?" Derek will take him wherever he wants to go. Although he'd love to take Stiles back to the house, his den, he can imagine Stiles just wants to crash in his own bed.

Stiles shakes his head. "Dad won't be home until late."

'I don't want to be alone,' is what he means. Derek guides him towards the door, opening it for him. "I'll give you a ride to the house. Scott can take your jeep home," he says. "We'll order dinner, your dad can pick you up after his shift."

Stiles nods gratefully and lets himself be hugged by his packmates that are waiting for him outside the door. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is resisting the idea of Derek as his anchor. It's supposed to be his dad, okay?!

His son's new identity comes with a few changes. Some are mind boggling, like the fact that Stiles can turn into an animal now. Noah chooses to not think too closely about that: it does not make sense. At all. It goes against everything he ever thought to be true in the world. Yet he'd seen the evidence: there is a whole world hidden inside the everyday, visible world he lives in. And his son is now a part of it.

Some changes are a surprise. Like how the kid is able to snatch the last pizza roll right from under his nose. Without upending the table in the process. Speed and agility come with the territory, so it seems. Still, Noah was happy to see him stumble over the front end of the couch the next day. It was a comfort that at least some things never change.

Some changes take some getting used to. Like how Stiles has buried his nose in his father's neck. "Son? Do you have to?"

"I gotta learn your scent," comes the answer, muffled against his skin. The kid is crowded up against his side, where he is standing in the kitchen to make coffee.

"I've been your father for 17 years. You'd think you'd know it by now."

"Everything smells different now."

"Really? Did they change the recipe for Old Spice?" Noah moves his body away from his prying teenage son. He loves the kid, God, he loves him, but he can be such a weirdo sometimes. 

Stiles rolls his eyes at him, but he doesn't try to smell him again. "You know what I mean, dad. Better. More. It's not just Old Spice I smell, I can discern all the little things that make your scent the Dad Scent."

"No beef jerky today," Noah responds, just a tad sour. The day before at the station Stiles smelled beef jerky on him and followed his nose to the bottom drawer of his desk to fish out the incriminating package. He considers hiding his contraband snacks in the evidence locker from now on, away from Stiles' newly updated sniffing capabilities. 

"Nope," Stiles answers smugly, popping the p. He finally moves away from Noah, though not before he pours some coffee for himself. 

"I did some reading on anchors, you know."

'Some reading'. Meaning he stayed up half the night to research the topic.

Stiles launches into some elaborate story about anchors, something Noah himself only recently learned about. He is his son's anchor, something to hold on to, to help him control his newfound powers. And that's really all he needs to know for his end of the case. His son does all the work, he just has to be there. Or not even that, the thought of him is supposed to be enough. Last week that didn't really work for Stiles. The kid refused to tell him the details when he picked him up from the Hale house last week, just that he'd needed the help of the pack to finally change out of his fox body. Which he turned into without the help of the full moon.

Yeah, that's right. His son turned into a fox. Not a werewolf, not the grotesque humanoid figure the sheriff was still not entirely used to seeing, but a full fledged fox. Tail and all. Somewhere deep down, Noah is relieved. The werewolf form seemed so violent, so intimidating; he has a hard time reconciling that image with that of his teenage son. A fox is a little easier, if he gets over the 'how the hell is this possible?' part of it. 

Having to visit the vet with Stiles was just pure irony. He understands dr. Deaton is more than just a vet, although it's hard to put the finger on what the man  _ is  _ exactly. Not very forthcoming with answers, that's for sure. They went to see dr. Deaton at Derek Hale's request and Noah could get behind his reasoning wholeheartedly. That period in which his son was possessed by an evil Japanese spirit was one of the darkest times in Stiles' life and therefore in his life too. The kid still wakes up from nightmares at least once a week. Luckily, the vet saw no reason to suspect that Stiles his newly acquired animal form had anything to do with the evil demon. Noah didn't miss the clear relief on his son's face at those words. Deaton thought it likely his Spark influenced the appearance. How or why, the man didn't elaborate on. Noah came to understand that was the vet's signature.

Noah cuts off his son’s story. “Son? Can I get the cliff notes version? I gotta get to work.”

“Huh? Yeah, sure.” Stiles gives him a cocky grin. “You and me, we’re gonna kill it at this anchor stuff!”

He has the feeling the whole anchor thing doesn’t sit entirely right with Stiles. Maybe it’s just because he had trouble turning back the first time; Stiles is quite the perfectionist, always setting high goals for himself. It is completely within character for him to bite down on a subject like this, wanting to know every little thing about it. Still, Noah can’t help but feel that the determination borders on desperation. Although that could still be Stiles wanting to be the best at what he does. 

“Sure thing, kid. See you at dinner!”

***

When Derek’s phone rings, it shows a name he can’t remember programming into his phone. Must have been Stiles then, because the screen shows ‘Sheriff Stilinski calling’. He pauses his morning workout to take the call. “This is Derek.”

“Derek, good morning. This is Noah Stilinski.”

“Good morning, sheriff.” Derek tries to gauge the man’s emotions, but it’s hard over the phone. He clamps down on the thoughts of serious trouble that bubble up. Nothing happened to Stiles. If there was, he would've felt it through the pack bond.

“I’m sorry for calling this early, but, well…” He imagines the sheriff rubbing a hand across his neck, like Stiles does when he is nervous. “You think you can drop by the house? I think Stiles needs his pack. I would call Scott, but the kid has school in half an hour, as does Stiles. But…”

“He can’t go to school on four legs,” Derek finishes for him. “I’ll be there soon.”

The sheriff opens the door for him, dressed in his uniform. “Stiles is in his room. He is not happy I called you,” he admits as soon as Derek has a foot inside the house. “I think he’s disappointed that he can’t get it done himself, you know, the whole changing back thing.”

“Changing before his first full moon is a feat in itself,” Derek says, knowing Stiles can probably hear them from upstairs. “He’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”

“Tell that to my son,” the sheriff mutters, gesturing for Derek to go see Stiles. Derek doesn’t answer, Stiles already heard it.

They go upstairs, where the sheriff knocks on Stiles’ door. “Son? Derek is here to see you.”

He opens the door to a partially changed Stiles. He is turned away from them, dressed in loose pyjama pants and an old Beacon County T-shirt that's too big on him. His hands and feet are clawed, though still mostly human shaped. There’s a tail peeking out from the top of his pants and his face is slightly pointed, his cheeks covered in fur and his ears pointy.

“Good morning, Stiles,” Derek says, mainly because he thinks the sheriff expects something of a greeting. Derek usually doesn’t bother with Stiles, if not because Stiles is often already talking before he can open his mouth himself. He stands with his hands in his jeans pockets, trying to get a read on Stiles’ mood while purposely appearing controlled and calm, as an Alpha should be.

The teen is agitated. His tail is showing it, the tip flicking up and down. Derek suspects Stiles doesn't know he's doing it, otherwise he would've stopped it to keep from showing how stressed he is. He rounds on Derek and his father with a scowl on his face and Derek sees the moment where the new scent in the room - that of Derek, his Alpha, his anchor - hits the teen. His nostrils flare and in the next moment the fur on his face recedes, his features rounding out. The kid puts two steps in his direction, aborting the movement abruptly.

"Oh, goddammit!" Stiles swears, gripping his hair with his now non-clawed hands.

"There we go," the sheriff says, sounding relieved now his son lost the tail. "No need for such language, kid. You turned back, that's a good thing!"

Stiles makes a frustrated sound, directed at the ceiling. "Yes, whoohoo," he gripes. "I spent all night trying to change back and Mr. Alpha over here walks in and -" He cuts himself off and clenches his jaw. "Well, thanks for coming over, Derek. I can take it from here, so off you go. I'm gonna be late for school."

Derek looks at him for a moment, head full of questions but finding nothing but a hard, blank wall in front of him. The need to get close is there, from both sides, but for some reason Stiles refuses to give in to that part of their pack bond. He is relieved to have changed back, but the scent is dampened by frustration and anger. His wolf wants to lick it off Stiles, groom him and coddle him until the teen relaxes and goes pliant. Now is not the time though, so Derek reigns in his instincts. Then he nods and wishes Stiles a good day at school, again solely for the sheriff's purpose.

***

Stiles sits in the cafeteria with Scott. They're alone for now, until the others join them; Isaac and Lydia have the same lunch period today.

He picks at his food, some semblance of Mac ' Cheese, until Scott finally notices. "What's up with you being all moody?"

Stiles shrugs, staring daggers at his lunch plate.

"Is it because you changed again this morning?" Scott leans over the table to direct his whisper at his friend. Which isn't necessary, because Stiles has perfect hearing now, just like the wolves. "I think it's really cool you can do that, even without the full moon."

"You can change without the full moon too," Stiles points out, still murdering his food with his eyes.

"Yeah,  _ now _ I can," Scott says. "Not at first! And you just shifted before breakfast, like, no big deal."

Stiles pushes his plate away before they call the food police. "I shifted last night already, not this morning." His voice is as sour as he feels about it. "I spent most of the night trying to change back. I even got hair all over my dad's bed from rolling around in it." 

He sighs, remembering how his fox wasn't all that impressed with his dad. Oh, the animal loved how he smelled of dad and pack and family, but that was it. No grounding, no changing back to human form.

"I went to sleep in one of my dad's T-shirts, hoping the change would come subconsciously." He waves at thin air agitatedly. "Nothing! Still woke up with a tail."

"I don't see a tail anymore, so something must have worked," Isaac says, folding his long legs underneath the table. Lydia is with him, taking a seat next to Stiles.

"My guess is, changing gets easier after your first full moon," she offers, even though she can't have heard as much of their conversation as Isaac has. 

"Yeah," Scott picks up. "It gets easier every time. After a while you won't need Derek to physically be there to change back."

Stiles shoots up straight. "Who said anything about Derek?" 

The two wolves across from him look puzzled. "Isn't he your…" Isaac begins.

"Last time you…" Scott starts and then rephrases. "We didn't mean to eavesdrop, but it was the first thing you said, you know, last week in the bathroom. You said Derek was your anchor." Scott takes one look at Stiles' face and raises his hands in apology. "I just wanted to know if you were alright!"

"We stopped listening after we heard you talking," Isaac adds, way less apologetic. "Just wanted to know if you were human again."

"My dad is my anchor," Stiles insists, "not Derek."

"What's wrong with Derek being your anchor?" Lydia asks, calmly putting the dressing on her salad.

Stiles ignores her question and turns squarely to Isaac. "Your dad is your anchor, right? How does that work?"

The curly haired boy looks at him, face impassive. "I remember how he treated me. How inhuman it was. And I think about his other side, when he was a good dad."

"And you just have to think of him?" Stiles' mind is already getting ahead of him. Isaac's father is dead, all the boy has is his memories. And that is enough. It got him through his first shift, helped him get control of himself without the aid of his Alpha. Whereas Stiles needs Derek's physical presence to even start changing back. That first time, when Derek helped him, Stiles was out of his mind from stress and exhaustion. He'd fallen asleep in the Camaro, he even thinks Derek carried him into the house! So, no, he wasn't at a point to ask questions at the time. It wasn't until later, when his brain got online again, that he wondered about his reaction to Derek. All the research he has done points to the fact that his father is a very logical choice for his anchor. It's most likely the best choice too. He's looked up to his father for all his life, he always does things with his father's best interest at heart, even when he lies and hides things from him. Which he doesn't have to do anymore, because the sheriff is totally up to speed with the supernatural world these days. It brought them closer together, even more so now Stiles has become an active member of that world instead of an honorary member. Point is, he loves his dad. A lot. And he wants him to be his anchor. Not…

***

Derek hasn't seen much of Stiles in the past week. Usually the boy is over at the house more often than not. It's almost habit for the Alpha to walk in and find Stiles sitting at the kitchen table, doing his homework or leafing through old books that survived the fire. Sometimes he's alone, sometimes the other teens are with him.

Today, his phone rings when he is about to let himself in. His one hand is on the key in the lock, the other brings his phone to his ear. The bag of groceries sits on the mat, next to his feet. He registers the words on the mat. 'Wipe your paws'. A housewarming gift from Stiles.

"Derek, it's Stiles," says Scott on the other end of the line. Why do all his phone calls have to be about Stiles these days?

Scott doesn't wait for Derek to ask what's up. "Coach made us do cross country, you know, in that part of the preserve behind the school? Stiles… well, Stiles tripped. Tumbled down a bank of leaves. And then he was gone."

"What do you mean 'gone'?" Derek has already turned his back on the door, ready to take off into the Preserve. 

"We found his clothes."  _ We _ meaning the other packmates on the lacrosse team. "I think he changed and ran off."

"Did anybody see?"

Derek can hear Scott shake his head. "We were alone at the time. Coach thinks Stiles went home sick."

"I told Coach he got the shits," Isaac supplies in the background. "He didn't ask any further questions."

Derek is shrugging out of his jacket, ready to change and run off in search of Stiles. "How long ago?"

"About an hour, an hour and a half," Scott answers. Yet before Derek can yell at him for waiting so long to call him, the kid tells him they'd already searched the woods. "We're pretty sure he went to the house. His tracks lead in that direction. And Lydia checked his home, he's not there."

Derek tilts his head up to scent the air. When he walks around the house to the kitchen windows on the side, he picks up a clear, fresh scent.

"You're at home, right?" Scott asks over the phone. "Have you seen him yet?"

Derek watches the messy tracks in the flowerbed beneath the open kitchen window. "I just got home, but he's here. He let himself in through the window."

Inside, there's a track of dirty paws leading from the kitchen to the living room. It circles the armchair in the corner - Derek's spot - before it disappears upstairs.

From outside his bedroom he can hear a human heartbeat with a familiar cadence. Stiles is fast asleep.

Derek goes downstairs again to put away his groceries and mop up the muddy paw prints. He sends Scott a text: "Stiles is okay. Bring his clothes."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles his first full moon is getting closer. Lydia and the sheriff watch what this does to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed I upped the number of chapters from 3 to 4. I thought it better to cut the last part in two, because it was getting waaayyy too long. Enjoy this part!

Lydia lifts her face a little for Jackson to press a kiss on her cheek. He obliges willingly, passing her on his way down the porch steps and onto the lawn. Isaac and Erica are already there, the female werewolf jabbing the taller boy in his sides and darting away before he can swipe at her. Boyd follows Jackson, a tall shadow passing Lydia quietly. She settles the cashmere wrap more firmly around her shoulders. Fall has definitely set in this week, there’s a chill to the air that wasn’t there before. 

“You coming?” she hears Scott say behind her. It’s not meant for her though, he’s talking to Stiles who hovers in the door opening. He makes a non-committal sound, probably accompanied with a shrug of his shoulders. Stiles never talks with his mouth alone.  
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Scott adds, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“We need a referee, Stiles!” Erica yells over, even though she doesn’t have to yell anymore for Stiles to hear her perfectly from that distance.

“Yeah,” Isaac chimes in. “Someone needs to stop this one from cheating!” He jabs Erica on her side for emphasis. The girl rounds on him and shoves him backwards in retaliation, which leads to a playful shoving match. Isaac shoves Erica into Boyd, who catches her with one arm and gives her a helping push to launch herself at Isaac again.

Usually, Stiles would be all over it, cheering them on from a not so safe distance. It wouldn’t be the first time that Derek or Boyd had to pull him out of the way before one of the werewolves came careening into him. Most of the time it wasn’t until the claws and fangs really came out that Stiles retreated back to the porch to watch the Betas train, together with Lydia.  
Now, Stiles is nervous. Lydia doesn’t need the sharp nose of a werewolf to confirm that the boy feels less than comfortable being out here. She knows the reason too, will always be grateful for the way Stiles shoved her out of the path of danger. It’s one of the reasons why she can stand here without being afraid: the pack will protect her, like they will protect each one of their own.

Stiles has followed Scott out onto the porch, though he stays away from the steps. His eyes dart from the wolves who are roughhousing on the lawn to the tree line and back again, never resting in one place. His hand scratches absently at his jaw and ear, where Lydia can see the fur coming out. It probably itches a bit. The full moon is in less than a week and although it should have been the first time Stiles would have shifted, she has seen him in partial shift a couple of times already. She’s a little disappointed she hasn’t been present to see his full fox form yet, but Lydia is a patient woman when she needs to be. She can wait, even though she is fairly certain she could pester Stiles into changing into a fox: there is a clear link between his emotions and his shift. Nerves and anger seem to have the biggest effect, probably triggering some fight or flight reflex that has his body changing into that of the swift animal. Judging by the way Stiles’ human ears disappear among the fur, making way for the furry triangles a little higher on his head, the boy doesn’t want to be here.

Derek is the last one to come out of the house, dressed in cheap black sweatpants and a wife beater that has a small hole near the hem. His clothes often don’t survive fight training with the betas, not with the way he lets them come at him with their destructive claws. She’d fussed over the necessity of it all, the violence and destruction of garments, yet Jackson assured her not having to pull their punches made a huge difference. And Derek would heal. No matter how bloody it got, the biggest victim at the end of it all was often Stiles’ bottom lip, after he worried at it with his teeth, eyes anxiously following Derek and his culminating injuries. His lip was probably grateful for the newly gained healing factor.

The Alpha doesn’t even look at her, his gaze immediately falling on Stiles. He pauses next to the boy briefly, telling him he can go back inside if he wants. Lydia rolls her eyes. As if Stiles would admit to being nervous to Derek of all people. Especially now. 

“Shut up. I’m fine,” Stiles snaps, taking a step away from his Alpha. He doesn’t want to be coddled, has refused special attention from Derek ever since their little one-on-one in the school bathroom. At least, that’s what Stiles tries to show the world. He’s not very successful at it. Lydia knows of at least one time where Stiles crawled into Derek’s bed on four legs and she has strong suspicions of a repeat of the incident. And there is the fact that his fur doesn’t go away until he gives up the facade and stops ignoring Derek’s presence. 

Lydia has a sharp eye and a cunning mind. She often knows things that the others don’t know or see. It gives her an advantage, one she is never wary of exploiting. However, this time she is fairly sure Derek also knows what Stiles is doing. He never would show patience like he does if he was ignorant of his Beta’s struggle. And sure, Derek has grown as a person and an Alpha, he is less bullheaded and ignorant of the people around him. He has learned how to be a good Alpha to his pack, has learned it through enormous trial and grievous errors. However, he seems to go out of his way to accommodate Stiles; it even gets noticed by some of the other pack members, inciting teasing remarks. 

“Don’t bother, Hale,” Jackson calls over, as if on cue. “The baby fox isn’t ready to run with the wolves.”

Lydia doesn’t wait for Stiles to react, nor does she look at Jackson. Judging by the way Derek stalks down the steps, he’ll get his punishment soon enough. She turns into the space Derek left open and hooks her arm into one of Stiles. She’s enough of a lady to ignore the way his other hand makes room for the bushy tail that now peeks out of the back of his sweatpants. “Come with me, Stiles. I’m not gonna catch a cold watching those cavemen fight.”

Inside, it takes a while for Stiles to calm down. He keeps pacing back and forth in the room, his steps always returning to the bottom of the steps and the large armchair in the corner. His anchor is pulling at him, leading him to the Alpha’s bedroom and the chair that is exclusively Derek’s. Lydia observes him from over the top of her magazine, not even careful in letting him see she watches him. 

“What?” he snaps eventually.

Lydia raises one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “I was wondering when you were gonna make us some tea.”

Stiles huffs, but does what she asks and returns with two steaming mugs of tea a little while later. He puts hers down on the coffee table close to her and stands still for a moment, clutching his own mug in his hands. They’re still human, although the nails are a little longer and darker and there are tufts of copper fur coming out from under his sleeves. He looks towards the front door, probably listening to the ruckus outside. It sounds like they’ll be a while still. Then he turns on his heels and stalks deliberately over to the armchair in the corner, his Alpha’s prefered seat. There is an air of defiance around him when he makes himself comfortable, as he is undoubtedly convincing himself this is an act of rebellion, not of compliance. Still, after he is settled in and has turned on a rerun of Friends, his hands are back to normal and the fur in his face has receded to the edges of his hair. Lydia is fairly certain he only needs to relax fully into the scent of his anchor that the chair undoubtedly carries, to lose the rest of his fox traits. As it is, he is still partly fox when the others get back inside. 

Like expected, Jackson is looking a little worse for wear. He is man enough not to say anything about it though. They all spread out over the house to wash up before they return and flop down on the various sofas and chairs in the living area. Stiles is not the only one who expects him to be chewed out for sitting in the Alpha’s chair; multiple pairs of eyes follow Derek’s path towards his seat. 

Derek unceremoniously - but gently - shoves Stiles out of his seat and on the floor, where he lands askew on the soft rug. The purchase of that particular part of furnishment happened under Lydia’s guiding hand. Before Stiles can right himself Derek is already sitting, his hand coming down to ruffle Stiles’ fox ears before he takes the remote from him. “I like this episode,” Derek says. And that’s that.

Stiles stays seated next to the chair. He is back to his human self before the end of the episode. 

***

The week leading up to the full moon has been an eventful week for his son. For the sheriff himself too, because how do you explain your son having fox ears to your colleagues? Stiles was luckily quick enough to turn up his hoodie when officer Malcolm unexpectedly stepped into his office during their weekly father-son lunch at the station. For once Stiles actually kept quiet, as to not attract attention to himself.

Actually, if he is honest, Stiles has been more quiet ever since being turned. Noah doesn’t think it is occasionally being a fox that has him retreating more into himself, it is the whole anchor debacle. It doesn’t take much of a genius to figure out Derek is Stiles’ anchor, not his father nor any of his other packmates. The man just has to show up and the fur goes away, something that seems to frustrate Stiles to no end. Noah doesn’t understand his son’s reaction. The kid has been carrying a torch for the Alpha since forever, you’d think he’d jump on a chance to get close to the werewolf. 

At first, Noah was apprehensive of Stiles’ choice. After all, the Hale kid is a couple of years older than him, something that might not matter when they’re both in their thirties, but matters a hell of a lot when one of the two is still in highschool. Secondly, when Noah first met Derek Hale after his return to Beacon Hills, he was a suspect for murder. However, first impressions aren’t always what they seem and the Alpha has really cleaned up his act since then. He rebuilt the Hale house and made it into a second home for the teenagers in his pack. Something for which Noah is grateful, knowing that Stiles has a place to go when his work demands him to be the sheriff instead of a dad. Derek even got a part time job with a local contractor, giving him a sense of normalcy for the outside world, while still leaving him enough time to look after his pack. To the outside they may seem like a rag tag sort of pack, but the sheriff knows from experience that it works. They’ve been through a lot, all of them, but they pulled through and  _ it works _ . 

Which is why he’s not worried by Stiles and Derek standing almost nose to nose, one of Stiles’ fingers poking into Derek’s chest. From Noah’s experience, Stiles never does well with authority figures. Sure, he respects the law and he’s a good kid at heart, but Stiles hardly ever listens to what he’s told to do. Noah knows that, as a father and as a sheriff. And Derek knows it now too, as an Alpha. 

He doesn’t know what the argument is about, it could be anything or nothing. The approach of the full moon has Stiles more and more on edge and now they’re only hours away from moonrise Stiles only needs someone breathing at him the wrong way to snap. With his emotions running high, the fox takes over. As Noah watches them argue, he sees the ears of his son grow pointed and furry. He has seen it a number of times by now, has even started to like them. They’re soft and very reactive, he can read Stiles’ mood from the position of his ears. The tail comes out too, Stiles angrily yanking his sweats a little lower to accommodate the furry appendix. 

Derek doesn’t react to the change of appearance in his discussion partner. It’s something Noah appreciates in Derek, the way he just accepts Stiles the way he is. Not that the rest of the pack is in any way reacting badly to Stiles’ new persona, yet the kids are not fully able to hide their amazement or curiousity. They’re quite used to Stiles being a fox by now, though his ability to change into a real animal instead of some hybrid form like them still turns heads. 

“I can see your furry ass, Stilinski!” Jason calls out from his spot on the sofa. That kid is never subtle. Or particularly nice.

Stiles wants to react, but his anger has transformed his face and he’s lost the ability to talk for the moment. It frustrates him visibly and Noah feels a pang of regret for his son. Still, he believes what Derek has told them both is true: Stiles will learn how to control the shift fully and situations like this will occur less and less over time.

Derek puts a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, probably trying to calm him down. He says something too, something Noah can’t hear from this distance, but Stiles obviously can and he isn’t taking it nicely. He turns his head to Derek’s hand in a quick movement and then darts away, his loose clothes falling away from the smaller fox body. 

Noah instinctively moves to follow him, finding himself next to Derek on the way to the door. The Alpha moves his hand in front of him, staring at the red welts that are disappearing in the same moment. “He bit me.” Derek sounds like he can barely believe it.

“Looks like he did,” Noah confirms as they both stare after the small shape of the fox that disappears into the tree line.

“He bit me.” There’s more Alpha to that statement, more anger. It’s not unjustified, Noah has found himself in the same place as Derek more than once. That place where you just want to shake some sense into Stiles, where you wish he was just a little boy again so you could put him over your knee. Not that Noah ever truly did that, but, you know, the feeling was there.

“He bit me,” Derek repeats again, pulling his T-shirt over his head. He’s preparing to shift, Noah realises. Like Stiles, Derek can shift fully into an animal, a wolf. He has only seen it once, when Derek showed his transformation to Stiles, how he could go from human to wolf in one fluid motion. When he saw the black wolf, Noah realised he’d probably seen the animal before, in passing at the edge of the woods and, although he is less sure of that one, just behind his property line. 

Derek already has his hands on the fly of his jeans, standing out on the porch, when he suddenly looks back at Noah. “Permission to chase your son?”

Why does it feel like Derek is asking for more than literally following Stiles into the woods and bringing him back? Noah guesses he knows. He’s known for a while now. There’s a reason why a black wolf patrols his property line at night. A reason why Derek fully supports Stiles, why he doesn’t give up on him no matter how hard the kid fights back.

Derek must see something in his face, because the pants come off. Noah averts his eyes. Stiles has got taste, he’s got to hand the kid that. He turns back to the house, waving Derek off. “Do what you want, son, I don’t want to know.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has to stop running from things.

Stiles runs away from his anger, his humiliation, his frustration and his badly concealed attempts at stopping himself from climbing into Derek like his fox has wanted him to do for the entire month. It’s getting harder and harder to not give in to those instincts. His human self is attracted to the Alpha, has been for a while. Okay, a long while. When he first realised he had a crush on Derek he figured it was just hormonal teenager shit. Derek is built like those Greek statues at the museum: all muscled lines and smooth skin. His excellent physique is hard to ignore when the Alpha walks around shirtless at every other occasion. And well, Stiles isn’t straight, is he? So it’s only logical he is attracted to the Alpha werewolf. Yet it hasn’t been purely physical attraction for some time now and maybe, just maybe, he already liked Derek before he even admitted to himself he was attracted to him. He never wanted to unpack those thoughts before and he certainly doesn’t want to do it now, but his fox doesn’t care about that. The fox picked Derek as its anchor, not his dad. And Stiles tried to change that, he really, really tried. 

As soon as the fox takes over, all he thinks about is Derek. The first time Stiles found his way into Derek’s bed after escaping from a Lacrosse training he thought it would be humiliating. Yet it wasn’t. He simply woke up well rested from his nap and found his clothes neatly folded on the dresser. When he came downstairs, Scott and Isaac were playing a video game in the living room and Derek was cleaning up in the kitchen. They already had dinner, but there was a plate waiting for Stiles in the microwave. He ate it sitting on the sofa, watching Scott and Isaac play. They teased him a bit for falling into a fox hole and turning into one promptly - which wasn’t true, there wasn’t a fox hole where he fell down. It just felt good to tumble around in those leaves and it felt even better to do it on four legs. It also felt good to crawl into Derek’s bed, where his scent permeated every inch of the bedding. Yet no-one spoke about that, not even Derek. 

He also didn’t say anything the second time it happened. He just woke Stiles up for dinner and let him borrow some clothes. 

The third time was only a couple of days ago. And it was in the middle of the night instead of during the day. Stiles couldn’t sleep, he was worried about his dad who was doing a night shift on a saturday night. It’s only Beacon Hills, but even there stupid shit happens when the bars close and drunk people pour out. His restlessness drove him out of the house, into the rain and into the woods, where the fox and his instincts took over. 

He found the kitchen window already open and slipping in was easy. Derek’s bedroom door was ajar and from there it was only four steps to the bed. With Derek in it.

“You’re not getting in wet like that,” the Alpha said suddenly, breaking the silence of the night. His red eyes glowed in the dark. “Either you change back and dry yourself off, or I’ll do it for you.”

The fox betrayed him and stayed on four legs.

The bath towel was soft and fluffy. Derek’s bed was too, once he was rubbed dry and allowed in it. 

This time the fox cut Stiles some slack and he stayed in his fur until he fell asleep, sparing himself the humiliation of facing Derek naked. He just burrowed in under the blankets, rolling up in the hollow his Alpha formed for him. When he woke up, Derek had already gone for a run and he could leave the house without any awkward conversations.

Maybe that’s what irritates him the most about this whole thing. The way Derek makes space for him, being all nice about it even though fox-Stiles is easily as annoying as human-Stiles. The fox even licked his face at some point and Derek wasn’t bothered. The big, mean Alpha didn’t care that an overenthusiastic fox climbed up his lap and licked his face. In front of Isaac, for crying out loud!  
Stiles tried talking himself out of that one by saying Derek still smelled like the bacon sandwich he ate earlier. Isaac just humored him eventually and then they both gracefully acted like the fox isn’t totally smitten with his Alpha.

Because he is. He totally is.

When he eventually gets his head out of his metaphorical ass, Stiles senses something - or somebody - is behind him. It’s following him and gaining on him steadily. He doesn’t even panic, the fox already knowing who it is by instinct. Instead, it turns into a game. Without much thinking Stiles darts to the left, diving into a dense collection of ferns, knowing his follower is significantly larger and will have more trouble to navigate the bushes than he does.

He dashes through the undergrowth, one ear directed at the sounds behind him. There’s a growl when he sprint-crawls underneath a thorny bush, leaving his pursuer to find a way around it or - Oh. By the sounds of it he chose to go straight through it. There’s a snarl, letting him know his choice of route isn’t appreciated. He winces shortly, the instinct to please almost winning it from the desire to play.

Stiles races into a clearing, looking back to see if he is still being followed. He almost brains himself against a fallen tree, jumping awkwardly to avoid collision and landing into a heap of fur and limbs in the foliage on the other side. He twists and turns to get himself free of clingy plants, yet before he can make a run for it again, he is caged in by four dark legs. He darts up, pushing at the underside of the beast. They turn, roll and tumble, until Stiles is once again underneath the wolf. A large head hangs above him, sharp canines visible in a soundless snarl. Stiles shows his soft underbelly on instinct, placing himself at the mercy of the large black wolf. The beast lowers his head to sniff at his exposed throat and Stiles can’t help himself. He twists around so he can lick at the large snout, apologising for running away from his Alpha and simultaneously showing how pleased he is to see him, to play with him. How very, very pleased he is.

The wolf freezes, head still hanging low against Stiles’ chest. A sense of his more human self cuts through his fox instincts and fills Stiles with dread. With that cold feeling in his veins the fur makes way for human skin, goose bumps all over his body. His human body, that is now stretched out underneath the black wolf, a dark hind leg with claws very close to the visible evidence of how pleased he is to roll around in the grass with Derek.

Stiles doesn’t dare to move away, yet he also doesn’t dare to look at Derek - even though his Alpha is luckily still in wolf form - so he hides his face behind his hands.  
“Oh my god,” he chokes out. “I’m so sorry. I’m - I didn’t… Can we please ignore - I’m sure it will go away soon. I didn’t mean to, you know, do  _ that _ . You can ignore that. I know I will. I’m gonna pretend it never happened. No sir! Nothing to see here. No happy play boners anywhere.”

The wolf whines softly, the sound startling Stiles out of his ramble and promptly launching him into a new one, this one more directed to himself at first. “How is this my life? I was handling things perfectly fine before that feral alpha came along. Now everything is fucked up! I turn into a fox every time I get upset and that damned creature doesn’t even let me choose my own anchor.” He presses his hands harder against his eyes, which are starting to burn like he’s about to cry. “No, it follows you around like a lovesick puppy and I was trying so hard to not be like that! I had it under control, you know. I could just like you from a distance. It was supposed to be another of those unattainable crushes I’m so good at. But no, that fox just had to come in and ruin that. Or maybe it was just me. I fuck everything up, so why not this?” Stiles is talking a mile a minute now; he can barely understand his own words, he’s speaking so fast. He’s out of air, his lungs forcing him to stop talking and to take in deep, shuddery breaths. He moves his hands to push them up into his hair, frustrated with himself and the situation. Stiles looks up at the sky, a last bit of blue visible between the tree tops. The sun will go down soon. The moon is already rising.

When he dares to sneak a look at Derek, he is confronted with the top of Derek’s human head, his naked shoulders tense and shaking slightly. “Oh fuck,” he breathes. Because Derek being human makes everything so much worse right now. Derek in his human form is very naked and currently perched over - Stiles squeaks embarrassingly when Derek suddenly sags down to his elbows and knees, the sudden movement bringing his body that much closer to that of Stiles. Even worse, when Stiles jolts in shock he is instantly reminded of the ‘happy situation’ between his legs. Freaking out apparently didn’t kill his very inappropriate boner. And if Derek hasn’t already smelled his predicament, he most certainly feels it right now.  
“Please kill me now,” Stiles whimpers, putting his hands back over his eyes. 

Derek sighs and Stiles can feel the warm exhale of air on his chest. It’s not helping.   
“It’s okay, Stiles,” the Alpha says quietly. 

Which - okay, is not helping either. This whole time, Derek has been more than nice to him. Stiles has to be very rude to get a rise out of Derek these days. Even worse, he doesn’t even _ like _ saying all those things to Derek, he only does it to get some semblance of normalcy back. To try and put some distance between them. This whole caring side of Derek is making him feel off kilter. He wants more of it and at the same time he wants nothing to do with it.   
“Stop being nice to me,” he answers in a pained tone. “Stop it.”

“No.” 

Stiles reels back a little, as far as their proximity allows him anyway. He looks at Derek, who still has his face down, so all he sees is the man’s black hair. There’s a leaf stuck in it.   
“What do you mean, no?”

“No,” Derek says to Stiles’ chest.

“Oh my god, you monosyllabic caveman! You never had a problem with being an asshole before,” Stiles retorts hotly. “Just go back to calling me stupid and pushing me up against walls. Or, maybe, not that last part.” Because his fox is a little too eager to get into roughhousing with Derek. “Whatever. Just tell me to shut up and stuff. It’s not that hard. You’re the big bad sourwolf, you can do it.”

Derek leans on his elbows, touching his forehead to Stiles’ chest now. “No.”

“Come on, man, it can’t be that hard. Just because I’m new at this whole werefox thing doesn’t mean you have to baby me. Just treat me like the rest of the pack, I can handle it. I’m just another one of your betas.” 

When Derek shakes his head Stiles wants to scream. Why is the guy making this so hard for him? 

***

Stiles is frustrated. That’s good. Well, it’s not the mood he likes to see Stiles in generally, but it certainly is better than having an excited and aroused Stiles underneath him. He is having trouble enough to keep himself together as it is. His wolf only has one thing on his mind -  _ want, claim, mine, mate _ \- urged on by Stiles presenting himself to him in the clearest sign of submission he has ever gotten from him. Yet he doesn't want to do that to Stiles, not now, not like this. He is still so young, so inexperienced, both as a shifter and a human. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve the one word answers Derek has been giving him either, not really able to get out more when he is wrestling with his control. At least he shifted back to his human form, although Stiles would probably be less embarrassed if Derek kept to his wolf form.  
"You're not just one of my Betas," Derek wrenches out. He keeps his breathing shallow, careful not to take in too much of Stiles' scent at once. "You're more than that."

"Huh?" Stiles makes a questioning sound that somehow sounds accusing.

"You're more to me than just a Beta," Derek repeats, figuring he owes Stiles at least this much. He lifts his head so Stiles can see him, even though he avoids looking straight into those large brown eyes. 

"No, I heard ya," Stiles says, his voice clipped. He stares at Derek for a second and then slaps him sharply on his shoulders. His skin stings with it. Stiles’ fox is not as strong as a wolf, but he certainly packs more of a punch now then when he was still only human. "You asshole! You do not get to say shit like that!"

"What?" Derek rears back a little, pushing himself up on his hands so he can look at Stiles a little easier. The fox fur is coming back, forming sideburns and hiding his ears. In a minute there will be pointy ears in their place, with a little tuft of fur on top.

"You can't do this," Stiles cries out. "Stop being so nice. Don't pity me!"

"I'm not," Derek tries. "I’m not pitying you."

The boy's breathing hitches. Stiles slaps at his chest and shoulders frantically. "Get off! Get off me! I need - "

Derek pushes up and rolls to the side, landing on his back with a soft grunt. Next to him, Stiles sits up jerkily, his chest heaving with laboured breaths. Derek carefully lifts his hand and gently puts it on Stiles' back, knowing the touch comforts him even if the boy thinks he should refuse it.  
After a few minutes Stiles' breathing evens out and Derek sits up too, making sure to stay a little behind Stiles, to not crowd too close. He shifts his hand to the boy's head, cupping one of the pointy ears. "I like those," he murmurs, giving him a gentle scratch.

Stiles' hands come up, covering his ears and Derek’s hand. "I would like 'm more if they didn't show up unwanted."  
He lets his hands fall again, arms resting on his upturned knees. His shoulders are slumped and his head hangs low. He smells sad.

Derek keeps petting the ears, softly tugging at them. "You'll learn to control it, once you…" He takes a breath before he continues. "Once you accept your anchor."

"You mean you." Stiles peeks at him over his shoulder, still not moving away from Derek’s hands.

Derek nods lightly. "Stop fighting it."

Stiles snorts. "I'm kinda afraid of what will happen if I do." His following laugh is a touch on the manic side. "You might have to start wearing fox repellent to keep me away."

"Who says I want to keep you away?" He says it quietly, carefully. 

Stiles turns, moves from under Derek’s hand. "See, that, right there!" He pokes a pointy finger in Derek's bicep. "You can't say shit like that!"

Derek bristles, tired of Stiles constant refusal to be taken care of, to be accepted. "Why not?" he snaps. "Why are you resisting this so much? Your fox doesn't!"

"I am more than that fox!" Stiles climbs to his feet and Derek follows him, refusing to let him run off this time. But he doesn't run. Not yet, at least.

"I never said you weren't! God, Stiles…" He pushes a hand through his hair, pulling a leaf out with the frustrated movement. "I am your anchor, you know it, I know it. Everyone in the pack knows it! And they’re all okay with it! Why can't you be?!"

"Because I can't let you be that important to me! I can't-" Stiles shallows heavily, blinking away sudden tears.

"You are  _ my _ anchor," Derek says quietly. He steps closer but doesn't dare to pull the boy in like he wants to. "You've been for a while now."  
When he sees Stiles' look, sad, confused and hopeful at the same time, he forces himself to continue, to lay it all out in the open. "Anger used to be my anchor. It was what kept me human, what kept me in control. But the anger faded over time and I found new things to keep me grounded. New people. My pack. You, specifically."

"You hated me at first," Stiles whispers, his hands clenched at his sides.

Derek shakes his head. "I didn't trust you. Or anyone, for that matter. Yet you proved me wrong by always being there. For me, for your friends." He smiles wryly. "I think you were the first new member of my pack, even though we both didn't realise it at the time."

"So I'm pack," Stiles says sullenly. 

Exasperated, Derek cuffs him upside the head and simultaneously pulls him in for a hug. "You know that, you idiot. You're pack, whether you’re human or fox."  
It takes a moment for the tension in his body to bleed away, but eventually Stiles buries his nose in the side of Derek's neck, his hands caged in against Derek’s chest. They stand like that for several long moments. The fox ears disappear and it's just Stiles again.

"What if I…" Stiles hesitates, his fingers curling against Derek’s skin. "What if I want more?"

Derek sighs. He presses his nose against Stiles' temple, leaves a kiss there, just a small press of his lips. "You're young," he hedges. "You're still new at this. I don't want to push -"

The boy looks up, searching his face. "That's not a no."

When Derek keeps silent, the small smile on his face grows bigger until it's a full on smirk. "Oh god, that's it, isn't it?" Stiles laughs. "The big bad wolf likes the little fox! You think I'm foxy!"  
Derek rolls his eyes, but Stiles only grins wider. "I don't hear you denying it!"

He squeaks out a startled laugh when Derek hugs him closer again, pushing his nose in his neck. "Don't get any ideas," he warns. "You're not even eighteen yet."

"I will be," Stiles answers, sounding smug. "In a couple of months." He rubs his cheek against Derek’s, smiles when Derek lifts his head and rubs their noses together, but doesn't try to do anything else.

Derek presses a kiss to his forehead and releases him. "You ready to head back? The others are waiting for us, they want to go on your first full moon run with you."

Stiles nods fervently, an adorable blush on his cheeks. When Derek shifts into his wolf form, Stiles shakes out his limbs and tries to do the same. The familiar fox ears pop up quickly. It takes a couple of tries, but eventually there's a full fox pressing up against his side. Derek throws his head back and howls in triumph.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the run.

Stiles has his first full moon run with the pack. It's glorious. Derek and him are the only two who run on four legs, but the others are just as eager to stretch their legs. Stiles finds out he is quicker than most of them, although Jackson can keep up with him pretty well. The wolves have better stamina though, they can keep up the speed longer, especially Derek. Stiles is more nimble, mostly thanks to his small form. He makes a game out of snapping at their ankles, trying to stay out of the reach of their claws. It's Erica who manages to swipe him, she actually sends him flying into some bushes. Scott fishes him out and Stiles sees how Derek glares angrily at Erica, who tilts her head a little to show her throat. Stiles gets rid of the ridiculous tension by biting Derek's tail. He has to pay for it only seconds later, when he finds himself on his back between the Alpha’s paws again. He licks Derek’s growl away, which earns them a mixed chorus of groans and aww's from the Betas.

When they get back to the house Lydia insists to take a picture of the group, before she lets them attack the food and drinks she has ready for them. 

Stiles darts to his father, who sits in one of the armchairs. He jumps on his lap and dives in for a good cuddle. The sheriff laughs and rubs his hands through Stiles' fur. "I take it you had a good time, son?"

Stiles nods and rubs his shoulders against his father's chest.

"He did great," Scott says, offering the sheriff a bottle of beer. "Although he was a real menace."

Noah Stilinski chuckles. "That doesn't surprise me in the slightest."

He says his goodbyes a little later, because he has to work the next day and it's already past midnight. Stiles gets the okay to sleep over, like the pack almost always does on full moons.

Stiles walks his father to his car, sitting back on his haunches to watch him drive away. When he trots back to the house he gets called over by Lydia, who wants to give his fox body a closer look. He prances this way and that way under her admiring eyes, if only because it annoys Jackson. It's not until she turns up a dog brush from somewhere that he rushes out of the room to get changed. He doesn't bother looking for his own clothes, he just pulls on a pair of sweats he finds in the laundry room. The hamper with dirty laundry smells enough like Derek for him to shift fairly easily.

"See? Told you it would get easier," Derek says from the door opening. He throws Stiles the red hoodie he was wearing earlier that day, before he took off running.

Stiles flushes and pulls the hoodie over his head, leaving the hood up. With the thrill of the run wearing off a little, he is much more aware of his actions of tonight. He shuffles closer to Derek, keeping his gaze on the floor. "I'm sorry I bit you."

His Alpha smiles and reaches out, cupping his neck underneath the hoodie. "I know."

He lets Stiles burrow closer to scent him. "You got away with it this time, but don't let it happen again. My teeth are bigger."

Stiles laughs softly at the empty threat, but he nods anyway. Derek is warm and firm and he smells like Alpha and anchor, like… Stiles isn't sure yet what the other notion is, but it smells familiar and good. Like he could roll around in it. He does, rubbing up against Derek's side until his Alpha tightens his arms around him to make him stop.

"You should've been a cat instead of a fox," Derek says with a shake of his head, sounding fond.

"You don't like cats," Stiles teases, rubbing his nose on Derek's jaw. "But you like me."

Derek doesn't answer with words. He just presses a kiss to Stiles forehead and guides him back to the living room.

Whatever this new, unprecedented thing with Derek is, Stiles will take it.

He also takes his chance to press himself in the small spot that's left in Derek's armchair, his Alpha’s arm coming up around his shoulders to make more room for him. With his knees pulled up he is practically sitting in Derek's lap. He never would have done so before, at least not in human form. His fox never cared for boundaries or other people's judgements. Yet the full moon run and his talk with Derek make him feel like it's okay. It feels nice too, even though the chair is hardly big enough to fit both of them.

"You should've been a chihuahua instead of a fox," Jackson drawls from his spot on the sofa a little over. He has Lydia tucked underneath one arm and is leaning against Isaac on the other side. "A little lapdog."

Stiles immediately feels self conscious about his position, even though Derek's arm firmly keeps him into place. "Shut up, Jackson," he says, with nowhere near his usual bravado. Jackson makes a face at him, miming his words.

"I like chihuahuas," Lydia muses, voice clear and with a stern look at Jackson. "But a fox suits Stiles much better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I was anything of an artist I'd draw that picture Lydia took of the pack after their full moon run. But alas, I'm better with words. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'd love it if you left a message to tell me what you think of the story.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this started out as a oneshot... And then all of a sudden it wasn't a oneshot anymore. So, if you're willing to wait a bit for updates, I'll expand this story step by step. :)
> 
> P.S. I'm loving how fast this story was picked up by you people. It's good motivation to write more :)


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